


all this bad blood here, won't you let it dry?

by 100demons



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Police, Crime Scenes, Emergency Medical Technicians, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:05:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1535216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine’s voice grows fainter until it’s barely audible. “Tetsu, I think you might want to see this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	all this bad blood here, won't you let it dry?

“This one makes three this week for me,” Aomine says, kicking the apartment door idly with the heel of his boot.

“Three what?” Kuroko yawns, poking a little at his bedhead with a look of a man who has seen true defeat.

“Dead on arrivals,” Aomine says, squinting at his watch. “I mean, we don’t know what the hell is going on in there, but by the time Kagami finally gets his ass over here, the old fart’ll probably start rotting.”

“Aomine-kun,” Kuroko says, a little sharply. 

“I mean, it comes out as a diff breathing and we’ve been sitting here on our asses for ten minutes trying to get this fuckin’ door open because no one’s answering. No super in sight and neighbors who don’t give a fuck.” Aomine shrugs. “You can add two and two better than I can. The poor old sucker kicked it before we got here and we’ve no way of helping until Tokyo Fire busts the place open.”

“Oi, oi, guess who knows how to make a fashionably late entrance.” Kise’s voice drifts down the hallway and Kuroko gets up from his seat on the stairs by the time Kise floats into view, blond hair shockingly bright against his pale blue uniform. “Kagamicchi’s two minutes out, he’s stuck behind a couple of inconsiderate assholes who won’t move.”

Aomine whips out his flashlight, quick as a snake, and turns on the strobe setting, hitting Kise full-on in the face.

“Fuck, you asshole!” Kise yelps and charges forward, neatly managing to hook a foot around Aomine’s leg despite being blinded by the flashing light. Aomine stumbles a little but regains his balance in time to squeeze an arm around Kise’s head and rumple his artfully disheveled hair. 

“This is why I _hate_ working with you,” Kise glowers, hastily running a hand through his hair to restore it to its former glory. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed with switching shifts with Momoicchi. She should honestly be nominated for sainthood after dealing with you on a daily basis.” 

“You were thinking you wanted the night differential pay,” Aomine says, relentlessly cheerful. 

Kise turns toward Kuroko, gracefully ignoring Aomine. “Sorry for leaving you here all alone with him. It must have been torturous.” 

“Not so bad as being with the two of you together,” Kuroko says mildly and Kise mock cringes, dramatically pressing a fist against his heart. 

“You wound me, Kurokocchi.” Something in Kise’s eyes shifts as he glances down at Kuroko’s trauma bag and the AED on the ground. “Murasakibara napping?”

Kuroko gives him a one-sided shrug. “He found a vending machine a floor down.”

“Even worse,” Kise frowns, resting his hand on the handle of his gun on his belt. “We’ll never get him up here at this rate. You’re gonna have to tech and drive all by yourself, if the patient’s still alive and--”

The three of them go still at the sound of boots thumping and the rattle of steel scraping against cement. Kagami’s bright red shock of hair pops up from the corner of the stairs, all the more noticeable against his dark black shirt and fire hose work pants. “You called?” he grins, wolfish.

“By the time you got here fatass,” Aomine smiled back, the edges of it sharp enough to cut through steel. 

“Yeah, yeah, speak for yourself, you donut eating fiend,” Kagami says, hustling up the stairs with a halligan bar propped on his shoulder. “I’m here now, no thanks to a bunch of assholes clogging up the intersection a few blocks back. 2D?”

“2D,” Kise confirms, stepping back to let give Kagami the room to swing. Kuroko slings the trauma bag over his shoulder, picking up the AED with his other hand. 

“Where’s the rest of your crew?” 

“Making their slow way up,” Kagami says a little absently, as he studies the lock on the door. “Looks like I’m just gonna have to bash my way through. How long since the call came out?”

“I was dispatched fifteen minutes ago for an adult male, late seventies, severe difficulty breathing,” Kuroko says, quiet. “I’ve been on scene for about eight minutes. Aomine-kun and Kise-kun came here as PD back up not long after I did.” 

Kagami’s mouth twisted. “Alright, everyone stand back as far as you can. On three. One, two, three--” The tight dark material of Kagami’s shirt ripples as he swings the halligan straight into the crack between the doorknob and the doorjamb, lodging the pick solidly in one go. With a grunt he leverages it forward, widening the gap, until the sheet metal crumples under the force of his strength, and loosening the handle.

“Everyone clear,” Kagami grunts and tugs the halligan out, knocking the door open in the same motion. 

Instantly, all four of them are struck by a heavy, metallic smell in the air that immediately sinks into their skin with insistent claws. Kagami opens his mouth a touch, tasting the air. His face darkens. “Kuroko, dispatch said this came out as a difficulty breathing right?”

“Yes,” Kuroko says, face grim. 

“Smells like blood,” Kise says, face blank. He has his flashlight clicked on and in hand, stepping towards the slowly widening door. 

“Old blood,” Aomine adds, sniffing gingerly. He follows Kise, light in one hand and nightstick in the other. “Kuroko, stay back with Bakagami until we get the area secured and figure out what the hell is going on here. ”

Kuroko gives him a quick nod and hangs back with Kagami in the dimly lit hallway, waiting, tasting the coppery scent of blood. 

“Don’t like the way this looks,” Kagami says, looking deep into the darkness spilling out from the open doorway, twin little starlights winking faintly in its depths. It is all that they can see of Aomine and Kise from here. 

“I admit, I feel a little unsettled as well.” Kuroko’s grip on the AED tightens, knuckles whitening. 

Kise and Aomine slowly, methodically search the apartment, their shouts of “Clear!” drifting faintly from the depths of the apartment and out into the hallway, voices sounding vaguely muffled. 

“Oh shit.”

Kagami’s shoulders tense up and he swings the halligan in his grip. “What is it?”

Aomine’s voice grows fainter until it’s barely audible. “Tetsu, I think you might want to see this.” 

Kuroko steps into the shadows, carefully noting the immaculately maintained rug on the floor. His boots sink into the plush fur, so much so that he has to shuffle more than walk. Kagami follows a step behind, close enough that Kuroko can feel the body heat radiating off of him. The dim light glimmering at the end of the hallway beckons him closer, the heavy stink of old blood growing stronger with every step. 

A quick turn and--

“Oh,” Kuroko says, dropping the AED onto the ground. It lands with a harsh crack. 

A young man’s body hangs from the ceiling from a thick rope tied around his headless neck, swaying gently side to side. Pools of sticky congealed blood cover the floor, still wet where the blood is thickest. 

“The head--” Kagami says, stumbling a little over the words.

Kise points mutely at the top of the doorjamb with his flashlight, the halo of his light illuminating the sharp planes of a young man’s face, casting ghoulish shadows on his face. It would have looked strangely peaceful, if not for the eyes sewn tightly shut and two mismatched circles painted on the eyelids. 

“Who would have done something like this?” Kagami breathes and for a brief second, Kuroko envies his innocence. 

“Akashi,” Murasakibara answers from behind, bag of chips clenched tight in his fist. Kagami starts a little, surprised at his sudden entrance. 

“Aka-who?”

Aomine looks down at his blood stained boots, muscles in his throat working as he tries to swallow. “Akashi,” he says slowly, and to his credit, his voice doesn’t break. 

“Better known as the Emperor, serial killer and terrorist.”


End file.
